Back Again, My Mate Was Cheating On Me

I woke with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat. The phantom pain of a knife slicing through my abdomen still burned in my memory, along with the image of my sister cradling my newborn son—*our* son—while I lay bleeding on a forest floor.

My eyes flew open, taking in the familiar surroundings of my marital bed. The silk sheets, the ornate canopy, the morning sunlight streaming through gossamer curtains—all exactly as they had been three years ago.

Three years before Ryan murdered me.

"Sarah? Are you awake, my love?"

The voice sent ice through my veins. I turned slowly toward the sound, forcing my features into a mask of sleepy contentment.

Ryan stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the morning light. He looked every inch the powerful Alpha—dark hair perfectly styled, jawline sharp enough to cut glass, eyes that could charm or intimidate with equal ease.

"Good morning, my beautiful Luna," he said, crossing the room with measured steps. "Did you sleep well?"

I swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to recoil as he sat on the edge of the bed. His weight depressed the mattress, and I remembered—with sickening clarity—how that same weight had pinned me down while warriors held my arms for the doctor's knife.

"Like a baby," I lied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "The nursery designs arrived yesterday. I can't wait to show you."

Ryan smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed my cheek, and I felt my skin crawl.

"You're radiant," he murmured, leaning in to press his lips against my forehead. "My perfect Luna."

I forced myself to lean into his touch, to smile up at him with adoration. "And you're my perfect Alpha."

The lie tasted like ash on my tongue, but I kept smiling. I had to. This time would be different.

As Ryan's hand moved to cup my face, I cataloged every detail of him—the slight crook in his left eyebrow from a childhood fight, the way his eyes never quite matched his smile, the cedar-and-sage scent that now made my stomach turn.

"Your eyes are so beautiful in the morning light," he said, thumb tracing my lower lip.

I glanced past him to the tea service on the bedside table—yesterday's cup still containing a quarter-inch of cold, brown liquid. I inhaled deeply, and there it was—the faint, bitter scent of wolfsbane dissolved in tea.

"You've been so busy with pack affairs," I said softly, placing my hand over his. "I hardly see you anymore."

Ryan's expression flickered—just for a moment—before settling back into practiced concern. "The duties of an Alpha are demanding. But I'm always thinking of you, Sarah."

"Of course you are," I replied, my fingers tightening imperceptibly around his. "I understand completely."

He kissed me again—a quick peck on the lips—before standing. "I have Alpha duties to attend to. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I have plans to review for the full moon ceremony."

As soon as Ryan left, I bolted from the bed and barely made it to the bathroom before my stomach heaved. I retched violently, emptying the contents of my stomach into the marble toilet.

When I finally stopped, I raised my eyes to the mirror. Pale face, tear-streaked cheeks, trembling lips—but my eyes burned with a cold fire that hadn't been there before.

"Hello, Sarah," I whispered to my reflection. "Remember what they did to you. Remember how it felt."

I pressed my palms against the cool marble countertop, steadying myself. "This time," I promised my reflection, "I'll be the predator, not the prey."

I splashed cold water on my face and reapplied my lipstick—a perfect shade of red that matched the blood I would soon make them spill.

My father would be heading out for border patrol soon—the patrol where Ryan's hired rogues would ambush him. The patrol that would leave him dead and Ryan one step closer to absolute power.

Not this time.

I made my way through the pack house, nodding at warriors who bowed their heads respectfully as I passed. Some of them had been there—had held me down while Ryan's doctor cut my child from my womb. They didn't recognize the difference in me yet.

I intercepted my father in the main hallway, just as he was preparing to leave.

"Father," I called, my voice deliberately weak.

Corbin Vance turned immediately, his weathered face creasing with concern. Even at fifty, he stood taller and broader than most warriors half his age. His silver-streaked hair and battle scars told the story of a life dedicated to protecting the pack.

"Sarah," he said, crossing to me in three long strides. "What's wrong? You look pale."

I swayed dramatically, letting my knees buckle. Father caught me easily, his strong arms supporting me as he guided me to a nearby bench.

"I don't feel well," I whispered, letting my head rest against his shoulder. "I think I need to lie down."

"Let me get Aris," he said, already turning to call for the pack doctor.

"No," I grabbed his wrist, my grip surprisingly strong. "Just... sit with me for a moment. Please."

He hesitated, clearly torn between duty and his daughter's request.

"Father," I said again, this time with steel in my voice. "The border patrol can wait."

Something in my tone must have reached him because he sat beside me, one arm around my shoulders.

"What's really going on, Sarah?" he asked quietly.

I took a deep breath. "I need you to look at something."

I led him to my chambers, where yesterday's tea cup still sat on the bedside table. Father's nostrils flared as he approached it—a warrior's instincts never faded, even in retirement.

"Wolfsbane," he growled, his eyes flashing amber as his wolf rose to the surface. "Who would dare—"

"Ryan," I said simply.

Father's head snapped up, disbelief written across his features. "That's impossible. Why would the Alpha—"

"He's been poisoning me," I interrupted, my voice steady despite the rage building inside me. "Slowly, in small doses. Enough to make me weak, to prevent pregnancy complications when the time comes."

"When what time comes?" Father asked, though I could see in his eyes that he already knew.

"When he's ready to replace me," I said softly. "With Melissa."

Father's face darkened with fury. He rose to his full height, hands clenched into fists. "I'll kill him."

I grabbed his arm, pulling him back down beside me. "No," I said firmly. "That's exactly what he wants—for you to challenge him publicly, so he can kill you and claim you attacked first."

"Then what do we do?" Father demanded, his wolf clearly pushing for violence.

"We wait," I replied, a cold smile forming on my lips. "We gather evidence. We build a case so airtight that when we finally strike, the entire pack will see him for what he truly is."

Father studied me with new eyes—his daughter, but not as he remembered her. In her place sat someone harder, colder, more calculating.

"Sarah," he said slowly, "what aren't you telling me?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Everything," I whispered. "But you'll know soon enough."

What I couldn't tell him was how I knew—how I'd lived through Ryan's betrayal already, how I'd died at his hands while my sister stole my child. How I'd come back for one purpose only.

Revenge.

And this time, I wouldn't fail.